


I Hate You, Marcus Flint!

by FightTheThorn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Romance, M/M, Memory Related, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightTheThorn/pseuds/FightTheThorn
Summary: Marcus takes his boyfriend down memory lane and recounts a few choice memories he wants Oliver to remember.





	I Hate You, Marcus Flint!

**Author's Note:**

> Just popped into my head as I was working on some other stories. I thought they'd have a fun love story, but I mostly thought I'd enjoy the last part of the story. It's not long, but I think it's cute.

The restaurant was filled with people when they arrived. There was a line leading all the way out of the building, and many people were just standing around waiting for their party to get called in. Marcus and Oliver were dressed up for a dinner with Oliver’s parents. It wasn’t often Marcus and Oliver found time between the constant Quidditch practice and tournaments to have an outing. Thankfully, Oliver’s parents were a nice witch and wizard who invited them to dinner. 

After a half hour spent waiting, Marcus leaned against Oliver and put his head on his shoulder. He sighed, gently sliding his fingers through Oliver’s.. “I didn’t realise it was going to take this long.” 

Oliver chuckled. “You even called ahead. They’re really busy.” 

Marcus bit his lower lip and stood up straight. “Okay, nevermind.” He moved to grab Oliver’s arm instead. “Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Wood. I need to borrow Oliver for a bit.” He grinned without waiting for a response, pulling Oliver to his chest, and they vanished into thin air with a loud crack.

The world blurred for a long second before materialising somewhere completely different. 

“What’d you do that for?” Oliver said, reeling from the sudden feeling of his guts shifting. He groaned as he let his stomach settle from the sudden apparition. He blinked a few times, looking up from the pavement -- where he was sure he’d blow chunks -- and paused as he saw a bright neon sign reading “the Witch’s Brew.” The surprise distracted him. 

Marcus glanced over his shoulder, grinning broadly at him. “You feelin’ okay?”

Oliver opened his mouth as if to complain, but stopped, staring at Marcus. He felt like something was happening, something important. Marcus watched him with confidence, his fingers tapping lightly at his leg -- a twitch Marcus always had when he was nervous. He caught his breath, pushing down the feeling to barf as Marcus gently ran his fingers through Oliver’s hair. “Yeah… I think I’m feeling better.”

“Good, then let’s go in.” With a light tug to Oliver’s arm, he pulled Oliver up the five stone steps into the cafe. An invisible bell above them jingled their arrival as they stepped in and headed to their regular seat, the one with the good view of the front store but secluded enough they could shy away from the light flooding into the large windows. Marcus pulled the seat out for Oliver like the gentleman he wasn’t before taking his own. 

The waiter appeared a second later before taking their order of two coffees and disappeared into the back. 

“Marcus?” Oliver asked, eyeing him suspiciously. 

The waiter returned quickly with the coffee, and Marcus took his, rotating it in his hands as he waited for it to cool. “Do you remember when we first came here?” Marcus asked.

In order to move along the process a little, Oliver played along, humming thoughtfully. “When we first came here? I think we walked by this place a few times… and then in the winter we came in to try out their coffee.” He took a sip and his face blanched at the taste. “It said best coffee, but it’s… definitely not.” He smiled at Marcus who nodded along. “And between all the gross coffee and the overwarm building, I asked you to move in with me.”

Marcus grinned. “You didn’t ask right away. You were sitting there with this super serious expression on your face, and I felt my stomach twist into knots. And it only got worse when you said you weren’t able to fit me into your schedule with all the Quidditch practices.” Marcus said, his smile gone, more contemplative now. “And with a lead up like that, I was so sure we were breaking it off. And then you came out of nowhere and asked me to move in with you.” Marcus snickered, putting on his best impression of Oliver. “‘Why not just combine the two things I love?’”

A pang of guilt hit Oliver as he chewed on his lower lip, nodding slowly. “I didn’t see it that way. Sorry,” he offered, giving an apologetic smile. “It was such a spur of the moment thing I didn’t even think about how to say it. I just… did.”

Marcus shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d never been so relieved and so happy. I’d been wanting to move in with you, to share a space with you for over a year at the time. It was just a difficult thing for me to put out there, especially since I didn’t know how you felt. If its intensity matched mine. I couldn’t believe you came out and just said it so nonchalantly.”

Oliver took a sip of his coffee. “I also remember you _shouting_ at me.”

“I was excited!” Marcus grinned. 

They laughed, appreciating how far they’d come since that memory. Oliver sighed, leaning in a little to whisper like he was asking for a secret. “Hey… Marcus… what’re you doing?”

His boyfriend only smiled, paying for the coffees before standing up and gesturing for Oliver to follow him.

Oliver did, walking out of the cafe and out to the street. He allowed Marcus to take his hand and -- Oliver was ready for it this time -- apparated. 

\---

Oliver assumed they were returning to the restaurant where they left his parents, but a quick look around told him they’d apparated somewhere different. 

Hogsmeade. It was a small town on the outskirts of Hogwarts. It got a lot of attention when the students came back to Hogwarts for the semester, but only after they reached their third year. Then they could almost come down whenever they wanted. Marcus was a year older, and he already knew all the best places to go by the time Oliver was finally allowed. He didn’t have a lot of interest initially, since most of his attention was on getting on the Gryffindor Quidditch team at the time. 

It was a little chilly out, but Marcus quickly brandished his wand and magicked them their nice, long, warm coats. Oliver brought his dark brown coat a little tighter around his shoulders as he looked at Marcus, dressed in a dark black long coat, with a raised eyebrow. He wanted to ask again, but decided to stow that line of questioning. Instead, he took the last gulp of coffee and tossed it in the nearby rubbish bin. Marcus did the same. 

“Memory lane again?” Oliver asked. 

“This,” Marcus said, letting go of Oliver’s hand and walking backwards, keeping his eyes on Oliver, “was where we had our first official date. First, the Three Broomsticks,” he gestured to the building, “and then Zonkos,” he gestured to the building further down the road, “and then we messed around just outside the Shrieking Shack.”

Oliver rolled his eyes as Marcus snickered. “You had your hands all over me. A bit presumptuous if you ask me.” 

“What?” Marcus almost shouted. “I didn’t hear you telling me to stop!” 

“Well… I didn’t want you to stop, but it was our first date. Besides, that’s when we got caught by Angelina and Katie.” Oliver mused, tapping his chin. “They were so surprised we’d hooked up. They thought we hated each other.”

Marcus barked out a laugh. “That whole day we were trying to keep it hushed. Not because we were ashamed of it, or because we didn’t want anyone to know, but because we wanted it for us. Something just for the two of us to share.” He closed the distance between them again, taking Oliver’s hand and stroking the back of it. “I was pissed I didn’t get to have more closet romances with you.”

“What about all those days we spent sharing the Quidditch closet? I’d say those counted.” Oliver nudged him. “You were a pretty handsy kid.”

“You know what I mean.” Marcus rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “We only had the title of boyfriends for 12 hours before it was all over the school. Your friends couldn’t keep their traps shut.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t continued trying to grope and kiss me while they stood in shock…” Oliver suggested. 

Marcus scoffed. “What can I say? I didn’t want it to end.” 

“It was a little bit of a let-down now that you mention it…” Oliver conceded, “But I was pretty pleased with it being out. I also felt loads better when one of the Slytherins said you lost on purpose because your boyfriend was on the other team, and Fred and George Weasley told him there was no way. That we both got off on winning.” 

They both roared into a fit of laughter. 

“They weren’t too far off, huh?” Marcus said, recovering. “The blood pumping, the pressure to win, the thrill. Quidditch was everything at Hogwarts. At least… it was for me. For a little while.”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, same here. It was hard to see anything else as important. All the teachers kept stressing the OWLs, but I just couldn’t see anything past the Quidditch pitch.”

They contemplated that. Marcus looking around at Hogsmeade, but Oliver watched Marcus. He noticed how softly the other man held his hand, how kind and gentle he was. The look on his face was more than just reminiscence. It was love. 

“Come on,” Marcus murmured, jerking his head up toward the castle.

“Another one?” Oliver asked. “Seriously, Mar, what’s going on here? We just left my parents in the lurch.”

Marcus crossed his heart and held up his hand. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I swear. Last one.”

Oliver pursed his lips. He reached out and grabbed Marcus’ arm, clinging to it for warmth as they began to trek up the path to the castle. 

\----

They walked around the outside of the castle, avoiding the large locked doors. Even after years of being out of school, Oliver knew exactly where they were headed without asking. 

“And here,” Marcus introduced, gesturing to the Quidditch Pitch, “is where we played against each other for the first time. We’d been up in the air for less than five minutes before we clashed. You said I’d hit an unnecessary bludger at you.” Marcus coughed, “You were right, by the way.”

“I knew it.” Oliver said, unable to hide his big grin. He playfully punched Marcus in the shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah. So smart.” Marcus pulled out of Oliver’s grasp and faced him. “Remember what happened next?”

Oliver nodded. “We started fighting on our brooms. I hadn’t brought up my wand, so we were just slugging it out the muggle way. I bet we looked _ridiculous_ to everyone in the stands. I think Angelina told me Madam Hooch was screaming at us to stop, or at least come down to the ground.”

“You swung first,” Marcus said, gesturing at his chin. “And you got me riiiiight here. I swung back and got you on the cheek. Back and forth, back and forth, until we finally fell off our brooms. I walked away with a lot of bruises… couldn’t remember which ones were from the fall and from our fight… but you walked away with a bloody lip and a cut on your forehead.”

Oliver nodded, chuckling. “We were idiots.”

“Remember what you yelled at me as you marched off?” Marcus asked. 

“Uh…” Oliver scrunched his forehead in concentration. “No?”

“You said ‘I hate you, Marcus Flint!’” Marcus offered a lopsided grin. “And that’s when I knew I loved you.”

Oliver opened his mouth as if to apologise, but then cut it short, staring at Marcus blankly. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Marcus looked at him seriously. “Oliver, let me tell you something. You’re someone who goes for your passions. You set up goals, and those are more important to you than damn near anything else. There’s no way in hell you’d let someone stand in the way of it. You were passionate then, and you’re passionate now. That passion you share for everything you care about? That’s what made me love you. I was in the way of Gryffindor obtaining the House Cup. I was in the way of you becoming the Captain. I was in the way. And you _passionately_ hated me for it.”

Oliver smiled sheepishly. 

“And when you graduated, achieving your goal, you made a new one. And I thought that was it for the two of us. But you decided to make being with me a goal.” Marcus took Oliver’s hands in his own and grasped them tightly. “Oliver. You’re the best and most amazing man I know. I’ll never meet anyone like you, or anyone who comes close to making me feel the way I do about you. And I have a question for you.” He knelt down on the grass, sliding a small box into Oliver’s hands. “Will you make being my husband your next a goal?” He opened the box.

“Yes!” Oliver’s smile swelled. He forced Marcus to stand, embraced him, and kissed him. His arms wrapped around Marcus’ neck. And the kiss sent fireworks bursting up above them, and he heard a crowd screaming and whooping in the background, and he felt something so much like happiness he couldn’t tell what was reality or fantasy.

But when they broke the kiss the cheering and the fireworks were still there. He looked around him at the people in floating stands. His Quidditch team, his school friends, his mother and father, Marcus’ mother, and Marcus’ friends. All were cheering and screaming for the two of them at the top of their lungs. Oliver even saw handmade signs being waved around, like they were cheering for them at a game. 

Oliver felt a swell of pride as he raised his hand up in the air and waved emphatically at them all. “I can’t believe you put this all together!” Oliver shouted. 

“It was hard work!” Marcus said, grabbing Oliver’s hand and holding it still long enough to put the ring on his finger. 

Oliver leaned in, pressing a loving kiss to Marcus’ lips. “I love it. And unlike that Oliver from before, Mar: I love you, Flint.”


End file.
